Monday, November 07, 2005



Yesterday, the boy called and asked me to pick him up from the airport. Of course, I was willing to drop everything and go get him at his scheduled arrival time of about 9:30 p.m. Well, then weather hit NY or whatever, and he was stuck waiting on the runway for 3 hours. He called to say I didn't have to pick him up so late, since I get up at 6 in the morning, but I, secretly sure that my new hairdo might win his love, said it was no problem at all.
By 11 p.m., I was totally exhausted and didn't think I was going to make it until 12:45 a.m., so I took a powernap.
Well, I get to the airport, and when he saw me, all he said was that he could barely recognize me. Not that I looked pretty, or super duper fabulous, or that he was now madly in love with me just based on the power of my magical new haircut.
So, I explained about the nap, and how I probably had bedhead, and it usually would look better. He just snapped, "You look great. You look fantastic. I'm just not used to it. I need to get..." and then never finished, instead moving on to the topic that "All New York girls are so much hotter than L.A. girls anyway." He said he wants to move there. I hate every girl who lives in New York now.

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